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It turns out I liked being an escort, much more than I believed I would anyhow. I even started taking the money, primarily since I was much too useful to let a little thing like guilt get in the way of sound judgment. But then, if I had the common sense I would not have actually been an escort either. I would have been just another fifteen-year-old catholic schoolgirl, doing her homework, doing her nails, doing the little ridiculous things that little women do.
I had not been a little woman in a very long time though.
I only worked three or 4 nights a week anyhow, given that I had to be home by 9 pm on school nights and 10 o'clock on weekends. But Deke didn't mind, he stated that was a advantage since he could in fact charge more, specifically if the person I was going with chosen me up at school. That advantage turned out to be worth a couple of hundred dollars additional, although I didn't truly like it. I was always afraid somebody would see me getting into a unusual automobile, a different weird car each time, and question what was going on.
I 'd been doing it for nearly two months already, and I 'd misplaced how many people I 'd had sex with. I didn't want to know, however it had to be a lot. I 'd made a great deal of cash too. Way too much for a ninth grader to invest, even after Deke took his cut. He charged 300 dollars an hour for me, or 500 dollars for 2. Choosing me up at school deserved an additional 200, which I thought was ridiculous, however you 'd marvel how many guys wanted precisely that. Like it proved beyond a doubt that they were getting the genuine offer, an underage whore to fuck and suck . These were all older guys too, like my papa's age, or more frequently even older, in their 40's and 50's primarily. They had a great deal of money to invest and it was the tips that really flushed my bank account. Deke provided me 30% and kept 70% for himself. He said that was generous due to the fact that he was my supervisor, my agent, my security person, my advertising and transport all rolled into one. He bought my clothing and the stuff I require to work, like prophylactics and lube and scrap like that. He did all the work if you listened to him tell it, and all I did was lay there and get rich. It was more like acting than anything else considering that I had to actually like these guys for an hour or two. I had to act more youthful in some cases too, as a little woman perhaps eleven or twelve years old; however never older. I liked acting though and I think I had a real talent for it.
Mary Magdalene had been a slut. That's where I took my comfort and she 'd become my patron saint. I 'd felt truly guilty at first, but that had actually disappeared when I realized I wasn't hurting anybody. The men enjoyed me for a little bit, although a few of them loved me genuine and asked me if I 'd wed them, or at least come back to their cities and cope with them. They were in love with who I pretended to be for that short time we were together, that's all, and while part of me felt lonesome since I knew it wasn't really me they liked, mostly I felt a little more secure that way. Like a person who loved me would not injure me, you know? I 'd had sex with like fifty people or something, many of them wanting me to call them Daddy while we did it. Some of them wanted to call me by a various name, their child's name, or a niece or the little woman next door perhaps.
I could close my eyes and picture the man who was making love to me truly was my papa. I might talk to him, inform him I loved him, how he made me feel unique and full-grown and enjoyed. And somewhere, somehow along that ride, I 'd started to believe it. I 'd go home and see my real father and almost forget that it had not been him that I 'd fucked an hour or 2 before. However I was falling in love, in developed love, and I could not help it. It was set into me, growing up not as his daughter however as his partner. We 'd done whatever however consummate our relationship, I thought, and he had to feel the same way. Didn't he?
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